The Superior
Giant bodies whose heads rose above the clouds. Spells that could kill armies of hundreds of thousands, and burn entire countries. Mythical beasts that could strike fear into millions with just a single look. The power of Gods, the power of legends, the power of myths made flesh and given bone by the strength of one's will.
All of these things flashed through Daneel's mind a moment later, their burning glory shining seemingly just a few inches away from his face. He wasn't dreaming of all these things; he was merely remembering them. He had been capable of all of them, and more before the arrival of the ultimate enemy against whom he had seen no other choice but to sacrifice his countrymen so that they would at least leave them alone. He had come to the Mainland to find a way to give back life to all of them, as he had managed to store fragments of what could be called their souls which were enough for the act of resurrection… if one had enough power.